The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1887-10-07
SELECT STORY.
TOMS NUGGET.

and boiled, and "dampers" were being
baked in the embers.
The air on every side was vocal
with bird music. Crowds of parrots
| flew overhead in screaming flocks,
cockatoos chartered in the gum trees,
and magpies whistled through the ra-
vines.
But Tom Horton, "tle Yanke lad"
as he was generally called, had no ear
for the melody of feathered songsters
on this particular morning.
He was heavy hearted, and, in con
sequence, irritable. And the gurglng
discordant and altogether exasperating
ale, ha, ha.a-a!" of laughing jack
ass "a species of large king6sher) from
thicket directly behind the rude
shanty, did not serve to soothe his
troubled mood.
1t was almost as though some ma
licious individual was laughin. at his
i'll luck, he moodily told himself, as
crouched before the blaze, he sat wait
ing for his tea to "draw."
Yet Tom had not seemed to deserve
ill fortune, if there was any truth in
the old saws about pluck and persever.
ance.
More than year before he had quit
ted the worn out down east farm where
he had patiently toiled for his miserly
uncle since he was left orphaned and
penniless by the death of his parents.
He had no wild visions of finding a
great fortune ready made to his hand.
He expected to work for what he did
succeed in getting.
But the rolling stone thus far Lad
gathered no moss. He had sought
work in large cities, but his ignorance
of city ways, his lack of references,
and his shabby clothing were all
against him.
Then he thought to try a new coun-
try, and worked his passage to Lon
don in a sailing ship. There, to his
surprise, he found things ten times
worse.
From London he shipped as ordi-
nary seaman, at two pounds month,
for Melbourne, Australia. There he
was robbed of his scauty wages on the
second night after his arrival. By
mere accident he got chance to drive
supply team to Ballarat, and from
Balarat he had drifted to the Magoari
diggings, ninety miles to the west
ward.
Twenty years before, there had been
rich finds in this vicinity, and in those
palmy days the digging was of the
most hasty and superficial kind. In
the greed for gold, men Ding awhile in
one spot, and if unsuccessful, deserted
it for another. And in "nuggety'
country not a foot of soil would be
left unturned.
So small colony of miners had To-
Gated at Magoari, and here Tom Hor.
ton made his first essay at gold hunt
ing. One and another of the friendly
dlggers contributed something to his
simple outfit. They helped him repair
halt-ruined shanty, and having taken
possession of an abandoned claim close
by, Tom went to work with his usua
energy.
"And here I've dug and sweated foi
nearly six months" muttered Tom
disconsolately, as all these things pass
ed in mental review, sand how muct
has it amounted to-"
Rising, Tom stepped into the shant,
which was lighted by large window
at the rear, guiltless of sash or glass
From under the coarse straw pillow a
the head of his bunk he took small
bag from which he emptied on th'
slab table few very small nuggets.
"Not twenty pounds worth in all,
said Tom, continuing his soliloquy il
the same discontinued tone, sand her,
I'm owing pretty near half of it fo
supplies
"Ha, ha, ha-a-a-a /" gurgled the biz
brown kingfsher from the dense un
derbrush close to the window.
.Con-found that bird y angrily AM
unreasonably exclaimed Tom, anc
snatching up the nearest thing tha
came to hand, which happened to be
small iron skillet, he sent it crashin,
into the leafy thicket.
To his surprise and dismay, the ac
was followed by howl of pain and
volley of oaths that certainly did nc
come from the laughing jackass, whic
skurried away with another exasperat
ing cha, ha u
A heavily built man, whose dark, fol
bidding features were half hidden b
an iron grey beard, dashed madly froi
the thicket, holding one hand to
nasty cut just under one of his eyes, g
Tom, sweeping his nuggets into tn
bag, hastily returned it to his bunk.
The mildest type of colonial lar
- guage is more or less emphasized b
c profanity but during the whole of h
u stay in Magoari, Tom had never listel
ed to anything like the fluent blasph
mics that escaped the newcomers lip
as presenting himself at the door |
called attention to his wound.
"A-skitterin' of pots an kittl
through the winder into honist folks
faces as though the place was yol
own, you white-faced young kid !"
S roared after somewhat exhausting h
first outbreak of profanity.
81 "Honest people haven't any busine
sneaking about in the underbrush ba,
of a shanty widow sharply retort'
Tom. sand as far as the place is CO
cerned, I'd like to see any one NAL
out that it wasn't mine," he went O
defiantly.
The man, who had square brut
,sss 5ss lower jaw, and low retreating fol
head, dashed his battered billycock h
To- on the ground in an ecstasy of rage
"You would, eh ?" he shouted, thro
ing his hand to his hip, where hung
heavy revolver.
Tom was too quick for him. SnatC
% ing from the oorner an old single bI
relied fowling piece given him by o
of the miners, he covered the strang
in an instant.
- "Drop that or I'll riddle you witt
charge of buckshot," he said, but no
trace of his inward excitement "
discernible in his voice.
BY this time small crowd had ga
cred from the neighboring shanties.
. "Thunder!' exclaimed old Jim
d r North, as his eye rested ON the SEQ